"He was a good man," he said. "He never did harm to our people. It is wrong that he died."
Nancy went on, sobbing softly. "I must have fainted. I remember a ride, I was thrown over the back of a horse, then we were at Victoire. Auguste, they—they just overran Victoire."
"Did anyone get away?"
"I think the people at Victoire must have seen our church and the farms burning, so they had some warning. I couldn't see much. I was left tied on the horse while they attacked. I did see them chase one woman and run a spear through her. It was over very quickly. They set fire to Victoire."
White Bear swallowed hard.
He saw the château with its magnificent hall and its great sweeping roof. There he had lived and learned so much from Grandpapa and Father. Their hopes, their lives, had gone into that great house. And the men and women of Victoire, kindly, cheerful hard-working people—Marchette Perrault, Registre and Bernadette Bosquet. They may not have tried to stop Raoul from seizing the estate, but they had, most of them, loved Elysée and Pierre and Auguste de Marion.
The pain in his chest spread till it seemed to fill his whole world, hammering at him inside and out.
Nancy said, "Then they rode on to Victor, taking me with them."
He choked as he asked, "Did they burn Victor down too?"
"Yes, as they left."